COLLEGE - JUNIOR & SENIOR YEARS (SEPTEMER '70 TO JUNE '72)

Back at UC, we were now upper classmen. Sue and I still lived in Memorial but we had graduated to a large, corner room. John and I were exclusive and totally devoted to each other. Sue was still going out with Mike, and Linda and Mark were still joined at the hip. Some members of our class had quit and some had gone on to bigger and better things. We were good friends with Marcy, Janine, and Leslie, who were lower classmen and “not favored” like us. Other dancers joined the Department –one girl I remember wore her leotard hiked up like a thong. While in New York City years later, I saw pictures of her in a porno film as I happened to be standing under a marquee to get out of the rain. She was standing on her hands, doing the splits—naked. Another dancer, Rusty Riegelman, stood out because of her bright red hair and the fact that she had boobs and a baby.

Nancy Gregory, who was relatively new to the Department, became a thorn in our side because; although we didn’t think she deserved it, she was asked to join the Company. I didn’t think she was any better than me and she was snotty to boot. She always seemed to be looking down her nose at us. It got pretty ugly—I really despised that girl.

There was much back-biting and petty jealousy among the dancers. We had put our whole lives into developing our bodies which were our art; and when someone criticized them, it was especially painful. Mary Lee Vecchio once told Sue her body looked like two peas (her boobs) on a surfboard with a watermelon stuck on the back, and I retorted with, “I’d rather be flat than fat.” Sue and I stuck together, which definitely helped us survive.

Speaking of being flat-chested, Sue and I were determined to remedy that. We saw an ad in a magazine for an apparatus that was advertised to be the cure we were looking for. Alongside the ad were pictures of once skinny and pathetic-looking girls turned into voluptuous, curvaceous women. We pooled our resources and bought a bust developer. When our package arrived, we were disappointed to discover a cheap-looking, pink, shell-shaped contraption with two sides and a spring in the middle. Along with the “developer”, came precise exercise instructions which consisted of holding the shell-shaped contraption in different positions with both hands pressing the shell together. We exercised faithfully for weeks, with virtually no results. At the end of our endeavors, we still couldn’t pass the pencil test.

By junior year, most of our core classes were completed so we could explore other options. Because I had enjoyed being exposed to computers over the summer, I signed up for a programming class that taught the language PL1 and COBOL. I am sure these languages are totally obsolete today but the class did give me insights into how computers systems operate. My teacher, Bill M., was young, attractive and married. I enjoyed the class tremendously and felt I had found another niche. My other classes were the usual—Ballet, Modern Dance, Ballet Ensemble, Ballet History—plus Intro to Music.

We had new and exciting Modern Dance teachers from New York City—Thelma Hill and James Truitte. They rotated quarters during our junior year with Jimmy teaching alone our senior year. Thelma taught first and introduced us to the Lester Horton method of modern dance—very painful, but very strength-building. Thelma was African-American, chubby, squat and thoroughly filled with energy. We all loved her and strived to please. Honestly, walking and climbing stairs during our first week of classes was a real challenge—and that goes for after every break and extended holiday too. For the next two years, I learned to appreciate modern dance. It was becoming clear to me that I probably didn’t have what it took to be a professional ballet dancer. I have always had fairly flat feet and very little turnout—something that doesn’t matter nearly as much in modern dance. Sadly, I found out a few years after I graduated, Thelma died in an apartment fire in 1977.

Jimmy, also African-American, was a wonderful, creative and funny man who later became a dear friend. When I was much older, I enjoyed reading about his professional success in a book titled “Alvin Ailey: A Life in Dance” by Jennifer Dunning. I also worked with him when he set a piece on the Dallas Ballet. James Truitte was truly a remarkable teacher and a remarkable man. The students at the University of Cincinnati were extremely lucky to have him as a teacher.

My love affair with Oleg Sabline was swiftly brought to an end when he married his young accompanist, Linda. I was heart-broken and shocked. Linda had been recruited by Oleg to play for him at a ballet camp where he frequently taught during the summer months. When she began accompanying him at UC, she couldn’t do anything right. He berated her mercilessly about her lack of skill and ability. I usually felt exceedingly sorry for her and imagined they hated each other. Apparently over the summer, love blossomed. He was still agitated and short with her when she made a mistake either in tempo or piece selection, but things had definitely changed between them. I think what shocked me most was that she was no older than we were. It also surprised me when the marriage survived many years and produced a son, Alex.

My junior year, Mr. Sabline no longer seemed interested in me as a dancer. I hadn’t lived up to his high expectations and I was no longer teacher’s pet. He spent a good portion of one whole class, making me cry and then yelling at me because I was crying. I distinctly remember him telling me to go play with my dolls although I do not know what I did to provoke him. After I graduated, I was determined to prove to my teachers at UC that they missed a “diamond in the rough.” I was determined to “make it”.

Acting was without-a-doubt our favorite subject junior year. Our teacher, David Lyman, had just married Peggy, one of the dancers in our class—I should say the best dancer in our class. She was absolutely gorgeous and went on to a long career as a modern dancer with Martha Graham’s company. She performed many of Martha’s solos and became famous for her interpretation. We loved David’s class and we loved him.

One of our assignments was to perform scenes with other members of the class. Sue performed a scene from “The Importance of Being Ernest”, by Oscar Wilde, with a guy in the class who was a real hunk. They spent a lot of time “practicing” their scene which, I believe, involved some kissing. Sue was going out with Mike at the time and her acting partner had a steady girlfriend. I kept wondering what would happen after the performance was over and there were no more excuses of getting together. There was an obvious attraction between them even though it was somewhat of an odd match—him being a hunk and Sue being so prim and proper. But after the performance, they went their separate ways. At one point in David’s class, I remember performing the Professor Harold Hill monologue from the “Music Man” that Dad used to make me do for everyone he knew.

In the spring of junior year, David roped me into performing in his two-person, one-act play with a guy named Rob who was Sherry Londe’s boyfriend. Sherry was a modern dance major who had humongous boobs and was cute as a button. The play was about a half-hour long and I agonized over learning my lines. I had never memorized anything of that magnitude before, and was extremely nervous that I was going to forget something. At one point in the play, Rob was supposed to kiss me on the lips; but John, who had become quite possessive by then, gave me all kinds of grief. David even changed the kiss from the lips to the forehead but nothing seemed to help. Before the performance, Sue, Mike, John and I, were invited to the Lyman’s for dinner. It was a lovely evening that was spoiled later by John’s reaction to the play. He was enraged because of the numerous sexual innuendos in the script. It took all night to calm him down. I had a difficult time understanding John’s reaction as Rob obviously had no interest in me.

John and I were spending most of our free time together. He had moved out of the house with his three buddies and into a high-rise with his roommate, Eddie. They lived in a two-bedroom at The Forum, a classy place about two miles from campus. That was the year John started showing his jealous side, and most of the time I was completely baffled by it. I remember one particular night while we were watching TV at his apartment. He started quizzing me about past relationships and what had gone on with other boyfriends. As he was my first lover, nothing much had gone on; but he was jealous that I had even kissed anyone else. He started suspecting me of sneaking around behind his back and accused me of it constantly. There wasn’t anyone else, but his irrational behavior was putting a wedge in our relationship.

There actually was one other guy I was mildly interested in named Kim. We used to flirt with each other at meal times and Sue called him my “Cafeteria Cutie”. Whereas John was totally macho, Kim was rather effeminate. He sang and played guitar. His major was Art and he lived close to Eden Park in Mount Adams where all the hippies hung out. Absolutely nothing was going on with Kim but flirting; but I was tempted, particularly after John was being especially difficult.

I never had a car at school but John would often loan me his. It was nice to be able to drive wherever I wanted to go instead of walk and it made me feel very grown up. With his car, I could drive myself back and forth from his apartment so that made it easier for him too.

During our junior year, Sue bought two gerbils to liven up our room. We named them Herby and Gerby, and they were fun if a little stinky. Because of the stress of school and the sound of the gerbils, one of us would inevitably have difficulty falling asleep. Sue had a great collection of records to help—and many a night we would fall asleep listening to the soothing sounds of Rod McKuen or the Moody Blues.

My computer programming class took up much of my free time. After we were given our homework assignment, we would write our program, go to a lab on campus to type up our data cards, and then submit the cards to the computer department to run the program on their giant-sized computer. Oftentimes, when we would pick up the paperwork from the computer run, we would discover a mistake in programming and have to go back and rewrite the program, retype the cards, and resubmit the results. This could go on-and-on until the program would run correctly. It was fun though and I was learning something new. But on another note, by the end of my junior year, I knew I would never get into the Cincinnati Ballet Company. That was depressing; I felt I had failed.

At some point during our college years, Sue and I and some of the other female members of the Dance and Musical Theatre Department became members of the Phi Beta Fraternity. According to its website, “Phi Beta Fraternity is a national professional fraternal organization dedicated to promoting the best in the creative and performing arts.” Sue and I were very active in the Chapter at one point holding offices. I remember it being a lot of hard work but I don’t remember much of what we did. I do remember that a single yellow rose was given to members at initiations and functions and I remember scouring flower shops for them. Sue and I both attended the National Convention held in Cincinnati the summer after we graduated.

The summer before my senior year, I went back to my job at Owens Illinois. It was hard to believe my college years were almost over. I was looking forward to graduating so I could make money and pursue my dream of dancing. During that summer and also some of the previous summers I took classes at Bud Kerwin’s studio in Toledo. Bud had danced the male lead in Les Sylphides when I was at Gail Grant’s school and had since opened a studio of his own. A young boy who studied with Bud by the name of Wally Bissell went on to become the infamous American Ballet Theatre dancer, Patrick Bissell, who made headlines along with Gelsey Kirkland for substance abuse problems. Tragically, Wally/Patrick died of a drug overdose when he was only 30-years old.

Before the end of our junior year, Sue and I decided to live off campus our final year. We had a friend in Phi Beta who was moving out of her apartment two blocks from CCM. We found out a few weeks before school started that she had changed her mind about moving. Carla and I took a quick trip down to Cincinnati to remedy the situation. I don’t know how it happened, but we ran into Rusty Riegelman, the dancer with the baby. She had gotten married a few years back but it hadn’t worked out. She lived in a 3-bedroom apartment and was looking for roomies—perfect! We sealed the deal on the spot. It couldn’t have worked out better.

I got back to Cincinnati a few days before John—just enough time to get into trouble. The summer hadn’t gone well—we were fighting constantly mostly about his jealousy issues. I knew it was only a matter of time before we broke up. I also think after two years we were beginning to see how different we were, and we were getting bored with each other. I called Kim and invited him over. It took only one evening for me to realize Kim would never work. I wasn’t attracted to him; I only thought I was because he was cute and different. When John got to Cincinnati, for some dumb reason I told him that Kim had been over. Of course, John was furious and never did get over it. We saw each other a few times over the next couple months, but our relationship eventually petered out and it was just as well.

Sue and I were enjoying our new apartment. We shopped for groceries and cooked many evenings. The apartment was about a mile from CCM, so we would hitch a ride with Rusty, take the bus, or walk to school. There was a grocery store, Laundromat, and restaurants only a few blocks away.

I started dating an older guy I had met the year before who worked in the computer lab. His name was Bill, also the name of my computer programming teacher. In order to differentiate between the two, Sue gave the new Bill the nickname, Squeaky Bill or just Squeak, although I have no idea why. I would run into the other Bill, my former teacher, while I was in the computer lab talking to Squeak. Bill offered me a job typing my notes from his class the year before. He would pay me so-much-an- hour until I was done. As I was one of his best students, he thought the notes would help him when he taught the class again. I guess that was the reason. But looking back, I wonder?

I was very attracted to him despite the fact that he was married. It seemed like he was openly flirting with me but how could that be? While I was typing out my notes, sharing the office with him, we talked, laughed, joked and flirted. He told me about his wife and kids—two little boys. He had only been married a short time but he already realized it was a mistake. According to him, his wife was materialistic and cold. He vowed to hang in there for the kids, but he wasn’t opposed to messing around on the side. He told me she knew and didn’t seem to care. I got the message loud and clear.

I am not making any excuses for my behavior, but I was young and inexperienced. I was also flattered by his attention and extremely attracted to him. One thing led to another and we saw each other frequently until near the end of my senior year. Once Sue and I attended a bridal show in which Bill’s wife modeled a wedding gown—I was very curious about her. Many weekends he brought the kids when he came to visit. He didn’t seem worried that someone would find out about us—often I stopped by his office at school and he would conspicuously close the door. Our relationship must have been obvious. After Christmas, Bill bought a restaurant/bar named Shipley’s close to campus. We often hung out there, eating and drinking beer. Looking back, it seems very surreal.

After I graduated, Bill and some friends rented our apartment and kept it for many years. He came to see a summer stock show I was doing the summer after graduation. We kept in touch and he visited me more than once in Dallas. The last time I saw him, I was pregnant with my daughter. He never did leave his wife although he told me the kids knew all along what was going on and were affected by it. I think he felt he had done the wrong thing staying with his wife—but it was too late by that time.

During our senior year, Dame Alicia Markova, famous star of the Ballet Russes and later founder with Anton Dolin of the London Festival Ballet, began a residency at UC. She taught Pointe Variations which seniors were required to take. Try as I might I couldn’t please that woman. I literally hated that class as it made me feel totally inadequate. I remember skipping it a number of times in order to meet Bill, play bridge or drink beer at Shipley’s or the Student Union. Senioritis had gotten hold of me.

During my senior year, I joined Contemporary Dance Theatre. CDT was a fledgling modern dance company founded by Jefferson James to promote modern dance in and around the Cincinnati area. Many of the dancers were from the UC Dance Department either currently or formerly. No one was paid but it gave the dancers an opportunity to perform at a number of venues, including an end-of-the-year performance at Wilson Auditorium on the UC campus. Mom and Dad came to see me and, although they were impressed with the quality of the dancing, they didn’t appear to appreciate modern dance in general. That might have had something to do with why I didn’t continue along those lines.

In the performance at Wilson Auditorium, I performed in a number choreographed by Jefferson James on me and Sherry Londe. Sherry was small and round and I was tall and angular. The dance was a competition of sorts between us and ended with us stomping off in opposite directions. We got a big hand from the audience.

The Jeoffrey Ballet came to UC our senior year. In addition to master classes, the company used dance students to supplement its cast for its performances of Petrushka at the Music Hall. I was chosen to participate and it was an eye-opening experience. I performed the role of the Flower Seller and was onstage most of the ballet. It was awesome to see professional dancers perform in such close proximity. Dance majors also participated in some of the Dallas Opera productions. It was all good experience for what I would be doing a few years down the road.

During junior and senior year, Linda C. and some of the other ballet majors performed in many Musical Theatre productions. Sue and I always saw the shows and, although I never auditioned, I enjoyed that type of dancing. Even at that young age, I valued my free time and was careful not to get stressed out by taking on too much. Sue was one of the only dancers who didn’t perform. She decided to continue at UC after graduation to get her Masters. She was given a work/study scholarship and started teaching in the U.C. Preparatory Department the following year. One of her famous students was the actress, Sarah Jessica Parker.

Bridge was something I played off and on during my college years. When I was a freshman, I joined the Bridge Club. We met once a week for evenings of bridge at the Student Union and had occasional all-night sessions on weekends. There was a dark-haired guy named Charlie in the Club whom I admired from afar. He was, of course, one of the better players and it would make me extremely nervous when I was partnered with him. After he married one of the girls in the Club, I stopped going. I couldn’t bear to see them happy together.

When I was a senior, I started playing bridge again. There would always be a game going at the Student Union, and I met a guy named Marvin who would drag me into it. Marvin liked me and I liked him but there was Bill, and besides I was leaving and almost finished with school. I met another guy at the Laundromat who I saw briefly but stopped seeing for the same reason. I knew I would be leaving Cincinnati, I just didn’t know yet what I would be doing.

And I can’t forget Frank who was 4’11”. Frank was a street artist who could stand still for hours—not moving a muscle. I met him when I, with a group of modern dancers, performed improvisational dance movements to Beatles Music with him as the focal point. The performance was at the Student Union with students stopping by to watch on their way to class. Frank and I went out a few times and were fine if we were sitting down, but kissing a guy a head shorter than you is just too weird!

The last guy I met at college was Larry. I had known him since freshman year because he dated one of Sue’s roommates. I had always thought he was cool but didn’t think he would ever be interested in me. He hit on me at the very last party I went to at UC. Even though I was interested, I knew I would be leaving. I have always been glad I told him “no”.

Shortly before school let out for the summer, many job opportunities were posted on the Dancer’s bulletin board. One that caught my eye was for dancers, singers and actors at the Pioneer Playhouse in Danville, Kentucky, about two hours from Cincinnati. I had two prior commitments that summer—to be a bridesmaid in Sue’s wedding to Mike in Pittsburg, and in Nancy’s wedding to Rudy in Toledo—but I was hoping whoever hired me could work around that. I also had to make time for graduation. The ceremony was about two weeks after school was over.

One weekend that changed many lives forever (including mine); I auditioned for the Pioneer Playhouse with Carla, Marcy and Rusty. Following the dance audition, we each had to sing a solo—something I had never done before. I guess I did fine because we were all hired on the spot. It definitely wasn’t big bucks but we didn’t have any expenses either. Food and accommodations were provided at the theatre. The Director and Choreographer, Connie Phelps, offered me the job of Dance Captain, even though she knew I would be gone two weekends of the run. My graduation date was during rehearsal weeks so there was no problem there. As Dance Captain, I would dance the lead in all three musicals—Can Can, New Moon and Teahouse of the August Moon and I was paid $25 extra per week. Rusty was my understudy and would dance my roles when I was out. Carla and Marcy were hired as chorus dancers and singers. The difficult part was going back to college and finishing the year. I was so excited to start working. The contract was only for a couple of months so after that, I would have to look for something else.

To wrap up my college experience, I attended graduation on a warm, summer day. My parents drove down from Toledo and I drove up from Danville in the turquoise Gremlin my parents gave me as a graduation present. I loved the car except for the fact that it had a stick shift. I have never been good at driving a stick, and the hills in Cincinnati made it even more difficult. As we lined up to march into the football stadium, it was difficult to comprehend that I most-likely would never see most of these people again. Sue, Linda C. and I marched in together although many students chose not to come. It was not mandatory that we attend but I have always been glad that I did. Because of the enormous size of our class, we weren’t handed our diplomas one-by-one. After the mandatory speeches, we all moved our tassels together. I was the proud recipient of a Bachelors in Fine Arts from the University of Cincinnati!

2ND ANNUAL TEXAS HILL COUNTRY 600

Linda and I repeated our supporting performance as crew for long-distance cyclist, Mark Metcalfe (Linda’s husband), who competed in the Texas Hill County 600 the weekend of March 12th to March 15th.

Linda and I drove to San Antonio on Friday evening stopping in Gruene, Texas, at Moxie’s to have a drink and give Linda’s daughter, Lauren, her 21st birthday present. Lauren works at Moxie’s as a waitress while attending Texas State University just a few miles up the road. Lauren recommended the chocolatini, made with Godiva chocolate, a wise choice—I just wish there had been more of it. Historic Gruene is a tiny, picturesque tourist spot on the Guadalupe River whose motto is, “Gently resisting change since 1972.” I vowed to make it back for a long weekend with husband, Ed in the near future.

There wasn’t much time to sleep once we arrived at our hotel in San Antonio and rolled into bed. The 5:15 alarm left me wondering how I would ever stay awake for the next 25 hours performing my duties. This was the 2nd Annual Texas Hill Country 600 and some changes had been made to the course since the year before making it roughly 18 miles longer. This year the 375-mile-long race also had an additional 20 riders. The riders were divided into many categories—solo men, solo men over 50, solo men over 60, solo women, mixed tandem and two-and four-person relay teams.

The race started promptly at 7:00 a.m. The temperature hovered around a chilly 40 degrees at the start but climbed to 82 and back again before Mark completed the race. Although the riders began en masse, it wasn’t long before there were many miles between them. During the daylight hours, the support vehicles drove a few miles down the road to wait for their rider to pass and communicate their needs. Further up the road, the requested item would be handed off and the cycle would begin again. The crew couldn’t get very far ahead of the rider in case of an accident or flat tire which would cause valuable time to be lost backtracking.

The hills on the course were merciless. There were so many more up-hills than down-hills that it didn’t seem fair. By late afternoon, one solo rider had dropped out. Tweets on IPhones updated teams on the progress of other riders. Times were reported by the crew at nine checkpoints along the course. Mark was on a mission to catch up to the other rider in his age category who had gone out strong. By the time Mark caught him, the other rider was exhausted and subsequently dropped out of the race. Mark cruised the rest of the way to a third place overall finish—with two much younger contestants in first and second.

Linda and I fared quite well considering the lack of sleep the night before. Caffeine from Coke Zero and Starbucks coffee drinks kept us alert. After the sun went down, we closely followed our rider listening to commands and passing food and drink out-the-window of our moving vehicle. Deer, rabbits and stars were in abundance—the night was clear and crisp. I felt I improved dramatically over my novice performance last year. Everything seemed to run more smoothly. At times there wasn’t much to do but eat, drink and talk and we did plenty of all that.

It was no secret that Mark was exhausted with more than 75 miles to go. I wondered how he would find the energy to continue. He is scheduled to do the Race Across the West in June—a race almost three times longer than the Texas Hill County 600. How and why do people push themselves so far beyond their limits? As a marathon runner, I felt like a slouch. Mark kept up his efforts to the end despite sore feet, no sleep and weariness beyond compare.

Mark finished in 25:10:02 with the first and second place finishers over three hours ahead of him. The last rider, a solo woman, finished more than nine hours after Mark. Once Mark finished, we drove the 65 miles to Fredericksburg, Texas, and our Bed & Breakfast where Linda, Mark and four other riders were staying during Hell Week—participating in group rides from 50k to 200k daily. We showered and slept for a few hours before we headed back to San Antonio for the award banquet (although it could hardly be called that). The next morning after a full night’s sleep and a morning jog, I ate German pancakes with Linda, Mark and two of the relay cyclists at our favorite German Bakery before I headed home and back to my real life.

LITTLE ROCK MARATHON

On March 6th , my husband, Ed, and I traveled by car from Dallas, TX to Little Rock, AR to participate in the Little Rock Marathon. We found Little Rock a welcoming and friendly City. We stayed at the Marathon Host Hotel, the Peabody in downtown Little Rock, in close proximity to the Marathon Expo, the start/finish Line and the Post-Race Party. We were familiar with the twice-daily March of the Peabody Ducks because we had experienced them first-hand at the Peabody in Memphis a few years back. After watching the Little Rock ducks, we made jokes that they were definitely the “duck farm team”. They could use a little more rehearsal!

After a bad experience last year at the Oklahoma City Marathon, we elected to forego the $20/each Pasta Dinner and perhaps made a mistake. The pizza at Iriana’s was bland and boring but at least it was cheap. With three kids in college, cheap is always good! At the Expo we ran into an old friend, Ram, who we had met on the Dallas Running Club’s bus ride to the Oklahoma City Marathon last April. He was there with his wife and son and it was nice to know at least someone in the crowd of onlookers on race day.

The weather on Sunday was picture perfect—low 41 at the start and a high of 65 by the time we finished. I elected to run with the 4:45 pace group even though I had failed miserably when I attempted it in OKC. Ed and Ram intended to run a more leisurely pace with the 5:15 group. We had plenty of time the morning of the race because we didn’t have to coordinate with shuttles to the start. I was a little disappointed that the advertised breakfast wasn’t free—it was cash only. Who brings cash to a Marathon?

During the first half of the run, we shared the road with the Half Marathoners so it was a little crowded. We ran by high-rise office buildings, domed government buildings and even the Governor’s Mansion and Little Rock Central High School, the site of forced school desegregation during the Civil Rights Movement. The City seemed the epitome of southern charm and hospitality. Our Marathon numbered bibs were personalized and we heard our names called out frequently by well-wishing spectators. Ed and I had decided to “run for a cause” so we wore hand-made banners proclaiming, “Green Power” on the front of our t-shirts and “Take Care of Your Mother, Earth” on the back. I heard many shouts of “Go Green Power” as I passed.

The second half of the race lived up to its hilly reputation although what goes up must go down. We struggled through miles 13 to 16 but were rewarded by speedy down hills through beautiful wooded neighborhoods during miles 17 and 18. Miles 19 to 23 were up and back along the River with the turnaround at mile 20.5. This part of the race seemed interminable and at about mile 20, my pace group started to pull away. I knew I could finish alone but was afraid I wouldn’t beat my 4:50:26 White Rock Marathon time which was my goal.

The last two hills at miles 23 and 25 almost did me in. While ascending, I settled for a fast walk and then picked up the pace again on the descent. I cruised into the finish line at 4:49:53 a mere 33 seconds faster than my White Rock time but slower than my goal. What the hell, I was happy as could be. I felt great—the best I have felt at the finish of any marathon in my life! Ed and Ram finished ahead of schedule at approximately 5:12. A good time was had by all!

The race was well attended and is growing every year. Approximately 1,800 people signed up for Marathon with a total of 1,549 finishers. Combined with the Half-Marathon and Marathon Relays, there were a total of 5,265 runners who completed the three events. Out of 34 finishers in my age group of 55-59, I placed 6th. Out of 576 females of any age, I placed 249th. I am eager to have my birthday in September, so I can move into my new age group and whop up on some old granny butt!

The Little Rock Marathon is known for its gigantic-sized medals and they didn’t disappoint. The Post-Race Party was also exceptional with a grandiose buffet, free beer, wine and vodka. I must say I took advantage of it all. We spent the evening watching the Academy Awards in our luxurious hotel room. The next morning after a scrumptious breakfast buffet and a walk to view the Clinton Library and Museum, we checked out of the Peabody, feeling proud and happy.

COLLEGE - FRESHMAN & SOPHOMORE YEARS (SEPTEMBER '68 TO JUNE '70)

I was almost 18 and getting ready to go off to college. I was looking better than ever—I had grown my brown hair long and wore it in soft curls. I rolled it on giant sponge curlers at night to smooth it out, but I had difficulty keeping it from frizzing when the weather was humid. At those times or when I wanted to look especially good, I would lay my hair directly on the ironing board and iron it. We didn’t have straight irons, and nobody went to the beauty parlor to have their hair straightened, so the iron was really my only option. Carla did it too.

I wore hard contact lenses nearly all the time even though they were quite uncomfortable. Glasses were not cool—ever! No one wore them; and if you did, you were teased mercilessly. I was still so flat-chested that it was embarrassing beyond belief. No one wore padded bras (although I did use my mom’s foam rubber falsies under my prom dress) so I just had to learn to live with the teasing. I had heard through the grapevine that the St. Francis boys said if I stuck out my tongue and stood sideways, I would look like a zipper. Oh well, they wouldn’t have me to kick around anymore.

My health was pretty good but not great; I didn’t have anything seriously wrong with me. Sometimes I had asthma attacks when I was running outside or I would start wheezing when I lay down and would have to sleep sitting up against the headboard. When I used my over-the-counter inhaler, I could see my heart beating through my chest and I was jumpy beyond belief. I would still get stomach aches and they seemed more prevalent when I was nervous. My jaw locked up on me occasionally—which could be problematic when kissing. I had started having migraine headaches in high school. My vision would become dark in spots and I would see geometric patterns. Gradually the dark spots would take over my entire field of vision and I would get very dizzy. Once the vision problems went away, I would have a terrible headache sometimes accompanied by nausea and vomiting. It was especially bad when I had to cheer as that was impossible with a migraine. I remember one basketball game that was excruciating.

Before I knew it, summer was over and I was packing my belongings to move to the University of Cincinnati. Mom bought me some corduroy jeans and a few sweaters to take with me to college. I didn’t have any money so I never bought my own clothes until I got my first job after college. I remember feeling like everyone had more clothes than I did. Because the University of Toledo was right down the street, most of my friends didn’t go away to school. It wasn’t the same as it is today with kids checking out colleges across the country looking for the best fit for their major. Most middle income families could barely afford to send their kids to the college in their home town let alone pay room and board. Also there was very little scholarship money for those who weren’t underprivileged. My Dad made too much money even though he did have eight mouths to feed. I don’t know if that was even taken into consideration.

Other things were different too. We didn’t have computers so we didn’t choose our roommates. Since Mom filled out my college application, she requested a Catholic ballet major and that is exactly what I got. When the day arrived, Mom and Dad drove me to school and helped me move into my dorm. The dorm I was assigned, and where most of the lower classmen lived, was Daniels, a high-rise, all female dorm with four-to-a-room and bathrooms that served the entire floor. It was fairly new and quite roomy. Two beds were on one side of a partition and two on the other with a common area for closets and vanities. Our room was on the top floor. Daniels was the farthest from the Student Union and the College Conservatory of Music, where most of our classes were held. We ate all our meals at the Student Union. The food was decent but there were nowhere near as many choices as there are today. We could, however, drink all the soda pop we wanted and for that reason alone, I was in heaven.

Once my parents dropped me off at school and left, I felt very lonely. I didn’t know a soul and couldn’t call anyone as it would have been a long distance call. I was instructed to call my parents just once a week which, of course, I always did. I remember talking to Mom mostly and Dad in the background always telling us to wrap it up. Long distance calls were expensive.

I don’t know how it happened but I met Sue—wonderful, adorable Sue! I met Sue even before I met Linda Calendrino, my Catholic roommate. I don’t know how Sue and I discovered we were both ballet majors. Sue was on probation because of an injury, which meant she had to prove herself or she couldn’t continue as a dance major. I was so happy to meet someone who seemed as unsure and insecure about the ballet portion of college as I did. Shortly after we met, we went up to the roof of the dorm to check each other out. We compared feet, turnout, extension, etc., and I was happy to discover there was at least one person who wasn’t head-over-heels better than me. I am sure Sue felt the same way. She was scheduled to have surgery on her foot over the Christmas break and so had to take it easy until then. Sue lived on the same floor as I did with three other girls who, although none of them were ballet majors, seemed very nice.

Once school started, we were off and running. That first year, we took Ballet, Modern Dance, Ballet Ensemble, Western Civilization, English Composition, French and Ballet History. Our class was small—18 total although I can’t remember them all. Aside from me, Sue and Linda, there was Linda West, Diana Baer, Linda Gold, Jane Sidies, Gail Sydell, Mary Lee Vecchio, Diana Grumet, Barbara Bogash and Peggy Lyman. Barbara and Peggy were in the Company and were way more accomplished than the rest of us. Gail had gone to the Performing Arts High School in New York with Linda. Jane Sidies had only one hand and I am afraid we weren’t very friendly to her. There were probably a few more—there had to be a guy or two, maybe Angelo—but I don’t remember if any were a part of our class.

Western Civilization was by far our most time-intensive class that year. As dancers, generally, we didn’t have much homework—nothing compared to the average college students. Our French teacher was a dreamboat! Taking French after Spanish for three years in High School was different but it wasn’t difficult and the teacher seemed partial to female ballet dancers.

Many of our ballet classes were taught by “the other David”, someone I (in my infinite wisdom) thought was a moron. He was the “significant other” of the Director of the Department, Mr. McLain, (also named David) and I felt this David more-or-less got the job because of who he was sleeping with not because he was any good. I have to admit I was a little more than insulted when he gave me corrections and not very diplomatic in any of my dealings with him. I am sure it did not help my chances of someday becoming a part of the Cincinnati Ballet Company, something all dance majors aspired to.

Our other ballet teacher was Mr. Sabline, a temperamental Russian that I fell in love with. I craved attention from him during and after class; and I must say, for a time, I was a bit of a teacher’s pet. Mr. Sabline also taught Ballet Ensemble; and during my freshman year, I was given a starring role. Although I think the performance went well, I was a nervous wreck. While waiting to perform, I got chest pains and could hardly breathe. Luckily they went away.

Elaine Epstein was our Modern Dance instructor and Lucette Comer our Ballet History teacher. Honestly, I don’t remember much about Modern in those early years. I do know we learned a Modern solo and a Ballet solo to perform for “juries” during our freshman year. It was a frightening experience—all alone in front of the entire staff. I was so afraid I would forget the steps! But I guess I must have done well as, on my report card, I received an “A” in each. We also had to be weighed for juries and I remember weighing 108!

Classes didn’t leave much time for socializing except on weekends. Many days I took as many as four dance classes which didn’t leave much energy for anything else either. I saw Vinnie every weekend—he either came to my campus or I went to his. On Friday nights he would come to the dorm and we would walk to “The Jefferson”, a pizza joint about ten blocks from campus, or we would go to a free movie in the Student Center. One night we saw Elvira Madigan, a very sad love story, featuring the Mozart music I danced to in the Ballet Ensemble performance. We were often accompanied by Sue and/or some of her roommates or other friends. Linda met Mark, a musical theatre major, very early on. They were almost always together and didn’t hang with us much.

Guys weren’t allowed in the girls’ rooms except on special “visiting days” and then only for a few hours at a time with the door open, of course. We could visit with them in the lounge of the dorm—but it was often crowded as no one had anyplace else to go. We were lucky in that Vinnie had a car and we would often go park—to make-out or just be alone.

When Sue came to college, she had a long-time boyfriend back home named Warren. They had been going together for so long they both assumed they would eventually get married. According to Sue she was head-over-heels in-love with him. Therefore, I was a bit surprised when she started going out with a guy named, Gary, that we met at orientation. Sue and Gary quickly became inseparable—when Sue wasn’t in class, she was with Gary. I never liked Gary much but it could have been because I was jealous and wanted Sue all to myself.

After a quarter of hot-and-heavy dating, Gary mysteriously disappeared. He dropped out of school and moved back home. Sue was beside herself. She had broken up with Warren, her one true love, for Gary and now he had deserted her. When she wasn’t in class, Sue cried and cried. She wrote “Boys are shitheads!” on the wall beside her bed. We tried everything to get her out of her funk, but nothing seemed to help—only time. Slowly, Sue stopped thinking so much about Gary and life went on. Later Sue found out that Gary had flunked out of school. He did come back in the spring and wanted to pick up where they left off, but by then Sue had moved on. She heard from him one more time, after he joined the Air Force. He called to ask her to marry him! He definitely got what he deserved.

A few months into the school year, I became very homesick. Linda was spending time with Mark, Sue with Gary and I felt very much alone. Because Vinnie was at Xavier, I didn’t see him much during the week. In our dorm room, on the other side of the partition, lived two crazy, sophomore lesbians who stayed up all hours of the night reading weird poetry. I remember feeling very lonesome, trying to sleep and wishing I was safe back home with my Mom and Dad. I was too timid to ask them to keep-it-down. Luckily it wasn’t long before the roommates moved and I came to my senses. In fact, half-way through the school year, they moved out and Linda and I had the suite to ourselves.

One story Sue told me made me feel bold compared to her. One time in Pittsburgh, Sue was standing on a bus and a woman was standing with one of her spike heels on Sue’s foot. Sue didn’t say anything—she was too afraid of what the woman would say! Can you see why we got along?

The Vietnam War was escalating in 1968 and 1969 when we were freshman. The country decided to institute a draft and they held a lottery which decided by birthday who would be called up. If a boy was in college, he was automatically deferred until graduation—so this draft was definitely prejudiced against the poor. Vinnie’s birthday was chosen as number 6 out of 365. If he had dropped out of college, he would have immediately been sent to Viet Nam. That was some incentive to stay in school.

Aside from loving the Beatles in high school and playing a little guitar, it was in college that I really become interested in music. Because my parents weren’t big music lovers, and because I didn’t have excess money to spend on albums, I never paid much attention to pop music. I listened to the radio and had my favorite songs, but I rarely knew the name of the artist. While in college, I attended my first concert—I saw John Denver. He was so young, cute and personable that I liked him and his music instantly. Later that year, for Homecoming, I saw Peter, Paul and Mary. I also went with Vinnie to see Arlo Guthrie, famous for his song, Alice’s Restaurant. Not many of the young kids had ever even heard of his famous father, Woody. The opener for Arlo’s act was a band called, Santana, relative unknowns. The Grateful Dead also played on campus during my freshman year. With a couple of friends I went to the concert for a total of fifteen minutes. Their music wasn’t folksy enough for us.

Vinnie and I went to the Xavier Homecoming that year. There was a dance on Friday night and then the game was on Saturday. On Friday, Vinnie somehow procured a fifth of gin and we proceeded to drink it down. I have never been so sick in my entire life. I don’t think we even made it to the game. The smell of gin makes me sick to this day!

The first time I went back to Toledo was for Thanksgiving. Vinnie drove us the three hours home and it was nice to be back on familiar territory. Christmas was the last time I vacationed with my family. We drove down to Miami Beach and spent the holidays at the Blue Mist Motel where we had stayed frequently over the years. It made me feel rich to be spending the holidays in Florida. After that vacation, I worked for Kelly Girls every time I went to Toledo for an extended visit. All the money I made I gave to my parents for my education. I continued to receive only my $15/week the whole time I was in college. Luckily Vinnie had plenty of money and I never had to pay for anything.

Another lucky thing was that Sue had a credit card. Whenever she got sick of the Student Union food, and on Sunday nights which our meal cards didn’t cover, she would ask if I wanted to go for pizza. Usually I would tell her I didn’t have any money and she would offer to pay with her credit card. We would eat off-campus at La Rosas at least once a week and some weeks many more times than that. If I hadn’t been in the Dance Department, I might have been able to get a job and make some money. But we would frequently have practices for Ballet Ensemble in the evenings. No one in the Dance Department worked.

I developed a couple of very bad habits during my freshman year. One of them was frequently using the “F” word. Everyone did it and we thought it made us cool and grown-up. The other thing I took up was smoking cigarettes. Sue was very opposed to my smoking and constantly tried to get me to quit. Many evenings we would go up to the top of Daniels where there was a lounge with vending machines. We would buy Cokes and snacks; I would smoke and she would crab about it.

After Sue got over Gary, Vinnie fixed her up with a friend of his named, Mike. We went on several double dates. Sue remembers being mauled at the drive-in but I remember one night ending on a hill in Burnett Woods—making out. I don’t think Sue particularly liked this guy—it was more just to get her mind off Gary.

Sometime that year, Sue met a guy named, Ray, while she was tutoring through the Presbyterian Church. One night she dragged me with her because he wanted her to come over for dinner and to spend the night. We had a “sleepover” complete with blankets and pillows, but nothing happened. Sue wanted me with her to make sure it didn’t. I felt pretty out-of-place as I am sure that’s not what Ray had in mind. I felt very protective after what had happened with Gary.

I had a few dates my freshman year with guys I met at UC. One was with a rather nerdy guy named Leon. Sue would tease me when he would call and say, “Deon this is Leon”. I think he was the one who took me to the movie, Barbarella, with Jane Fonda—a rather racy flick. I wasn’t really interested. Someone I was interested in was John Glase, my godmother’s son, who was a year ahead of me. I walked to the Catholic Church nearly every Sunday for Mass and I would see him there. We talked and I flirted and he seemed to be interested too. He came from a big Catholic family. When I was little, I remember rattling off the names of his siblings to impress people—Jimmy, Johnny, Jeffrey, Joanie, Joey, Janette, Judy and Jay.

In the spring of my freshman year, Vinnie and I started having problems. I remember thinking he wasn’t treating me right. I didn’t feel special anymore when I was with him. He criticized me more and more and seemed to be getting more and more selfish. At the same time, my flirting with John started paying off. I had his phone number and he had mine. He invited me up to see his dorm room and we seemed to “hit it off”.

One day at The Jefferson, Vinnie and I broke up. It was a clean break—something I have never been able to do with anyone since. I left him looking sad and forlorn and haven’t seen him since. I did call him once many, many years later when Mom told me she heard he was in town. We talked a little but he didn’t want to see me. It makes me sad to think I know very little about someone who, at one time, was such a big part of my life. I know he married a woman with a child but never had children of his own. I know his step-child died in a diabetic coma in her early twenties. I also know Vinnie and his wife live in California.

So I basically went from the arms of Vinnie into the arms of John. I pretty much did that most of my life—I would want to break up with a guy but would wait until I had someone else on the line. I never wanted to be alone. I am not proud of myself for this, and I don’t think that’s the way it should be done; it’s just what I did. So, once again, I had my guy at school and at home—how convenient! John didn’t have a car that first year so I either rode the Greyhound Bus or flew back and forth from school to home. That was the first time I ever flew in a plane.

In April, Sue met another Mike, through a friend of mine, Glen Bitzenhoffer. He was the new guy in eighth grade at St. Pius who all the girls were in love with. I hadn’t even realized he went to UC until I ran into him at a football game. When I ran into him again in the spring, I was with Sue and he was with Mike. One thing led to another, and Sue and Mike became an item. I was never crazy about him either—but then I wasn’t the one who was dating him.

I got all A’s my freshman year. Sue, Linda and I pulled an all-nighter studying for the Western Civ final—I basically memorized 57 pages of notes. So freshman year was history and summer vacation was upon us. I went back to work for Kelly Girls and worked all summer. Because of my skills at typing and shorthand, there was never a problem placing me.

That summer I lucked out getting a job that lasted nearly two months working for Chrysler Motor Company in Perrysburg, about a 15-minute drive from our house. The job was fun and made me feel very grown-up. While working at Chrysler, I met a very attractive African-American boy named Merle who flirted with me constantly. At one point he asked me out and, although I was flattered, I declined. I knew it wouldn’t go over big with Dad.

John wasn’t nearly as rich as Vinnie so much of our time was spent hanging out at each other’s house. John had lots of brothers and sisters, so there was always something to do. One night I stayed for dinner and we had liver and onions. I believe that was the one-and-only time I have eaten liver in my life. John told me to smother it in ketchup and put it way back in my throat—so as to avoid the taste buds on the tongue. It seemed to work and I was very grateful as I didn’t want his mother to think I didn’t like her cooking. We only hung out once or twice a week as we weren’t really an “item” yet. We were just testing the waters.

Soon it was time to go back to school. Linda and I kept our room at Daniels and Sue and Linda West moved into the other side. We got along pretty well, as roommates go, but it soon became apparent that Linda West was a bit of an oddball (to put it nicely). She often pranced around au natural which was a little disconcerting to the rest of us. She also complained a lot about little things like me using her Kleenex (without asking) and discarding it without using it fully. That living arrangement lasted only a quarter or two with Linda Calendrino moving to Memorial Hall first and Sue and I following soon after. Linda Calendrino probably moved out because she was annoyed with me for borrowing her clothes all the time. I’m not sure where West went. Memorial was actually a much better choice of dorms as it was directly across from CCM where all our dance classes were held.

While we were at Daniels, a girl who lived across the hall from us mysteriously disappeared over the Thanksgiving holiday. The news was all over campus. We didn’t know her well but we had talked to her a time or two. She seemed like a nice girl. Later her body was discovered in Burnett Woods. I think they found out who had killed her a few years later. After that, there were no more midnight make-out sessions for us there.

Our room in Memorial was just down the hall from Linda’s who had a room to herself. Now that we were sophomores, we had some seniority and more choices. Memorial was a lot older than Daniels but it had more character—every room was a little different. The bathrooms were communal and pretty bad—but being able to roll out of bed and into class made it all worthwhile. We now ate at Sidall which was a nicer dining room than the Student Union. Also, the Dance Department was in its new, grander studios, in a wing that had just been built. Whereas before there was one tiny studio and a room where we all changed, now there were three studios, a locker room, bathrooms, mirrors, etc. We loved it!

Our classes were similar in that we still took Ballet, Modern, and Ballet Ensemble. We also took Ballet History but with a different teacher—P.W. Manchester, who co-wrote the “Dance Encyclopedia” with Anthony Chujoy. She knew everything there was to know about the history of dance and much of it she knew first-hand. Her class was inspiring and entertaining. Sue and I were the teacher’s pets—everyone wanted to sit by us (to copy off us). Our other classes were Music Appreciation and American History.

When I first got back to school, before John and I became a steady item, one of the guys in the Ballet Company named David Glazer fixed me up with a friend of his. In addition to being in the Company, David was a student at Hebrew Union College studying to be a rabbi—his friend was doing the same. I can’t even remember the guy’s name—I only remember making out in his dorm room one afternoon listening to Diana Ross sing, “Take Me Higher”. He used to call me shiksa, which means a non-Jewish girlfriend.

Mike, Sue’s boyfriend, also fixed me up with a friend of his named, Paul Corbin. He was a nice-enough guy, very much a red-neck from Southern Kentucky, but very cute. That also didn’t last long. He attempted to maul me repeatedly at the drive-in movies and I definitely wasn’t of the same mind. I wasn’t really interested in either of these guys, as I was sure I was meant to be with John.

Over the course of sophomore year, John and I became closer—in fact, he was my first lover. He lived in a house just down the street from campus with three other guys all of whom smoked pot. Since John didn’t smoke, neither did I. We did, however, spend hours in his tiny bedroom under a black light listening to Moody Blues. It was all very romantic. I made a scrapbook, put our pictures in it, and titled it, “Me and My Guy” just like my mother had done before she and Dad got married. I was sure he was THE ONE.

Occasionally McLain, the Artistic Director of the Cincinnati Ballet, would show some interest in me and invite me to attend Company class. As becoming a member of the Cincinnati Ballet was my dream, I was elated to be able to train with the Company. Unfortunately, mid-way through my sophomore year, I started having trouble with my right ankle. The pain became worse and worse the more I danced. I saw an orthopedic surgeon who gave me frequent cortisone shots to help alleviate the pain. His diagnosis was a stretched ligament—something he hoped would repair itself in time. I was still taking class but obviously not doing my best because of the injury. Right after the Christmas break, the doctor suggested complete immobilization and he put my leg in a cast up to the knee. Now instead of taking class, I watched which was frustrating and boring. I had the cast on for six weeks and I recall hitchhiking back and forth from John’s to campus (with John, of course) because I couldn’t walk. After I got the cast off, my foot was much better, but I felt I had lost much precious time. By the time half of my college career was over, I still hadn’t been asked to join the Company.

On May 4th of my sophomore year, something of major significance in the history of the United States occurred just 250 miles from where I was living. The National Guard was called upon to restore order at Kent State University because the students there were protesting the United States’ invasion of Cambodia during the Viet Nam War. The Guardsmen opened fire on the unarmed students killing four of them and wounding nine others. After the “Kent State Massacre” (as it came to be known), over four million students throughout the United States went on strike to protest the incident and the war. The federal government, afraid of more student uprisings, closed colleges, universities, and even high schools across the country. The University of Cincinnati was one of those schools closed.

The Friday after the Kent State incident, right at the end of class, I partially tore my Achilles tendon where it attaches to the calf muscle. I was favoring that foot due to the stretched ligament injury earlier in the school year. I landed a jump and felt a tear. I was having trouble walking and knew dancing was out-of-the-question. I was sick with worry about having to tell McLain, once again, that I was injured. The incident at Kent State saved my butt. I had the entire summer to recover. I have always looked upon the school closing as a total miracle. I had prayed for help and help came at exactly the right time. The tendon healed but I have a lump on my leg from the injury to this day.

That summer I got a great job with Kelly Girls right-off-the-bat. I started working for Owen-Illinois Glass Company. I worked in a few departments before I ended up in a trailer outside the main building. The group I worked for wrote computer software for computers the size of large file cabinets that used paper tape punched with holes. The holes were typed onto the tape much the same way data was later punched into a card. Inputting the data was my job. I had no idea how computers were programmed and that summer I became interested in learning. When I wasn’t particularly busy (which was often) I learned the basics of programming and programmed the computer to type, “I am not as dumb as you think I am,” when it was turned on. Everyone was very surprised and I felt very smart and appreciated.

That summer I also read two books (mostly during work) that I found fascinating—Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. I didn’t understand the politics at all but I found the stories engrossing. I have always loved to read; and many weekends, if I didn’t have anything else to do, I would read all day. I read “East of Eden” by John Steinbeck in one day. I couldn’t put it down.

The group at Owens Illinois liked me so much that, from then on, I had a job anytime I wanted to work. I worked for them the following summer, during Christmas breaks and spring breaks. The best part of it was I no longer worked through Kelly Girls. I worked directly for Owens Illinois so I made more money—even though I didn’t get any of it—and Mom and Dad were happy.

There was a young guy in the group at OI named Dave who had a withered arm. He was nice enough but he liked me way too much. One time I went with him up to Ann Arbor to visit the University of Michigan. He was very religious and I remember going with him to a church service up there. It wasn’t a Catholic church—I felt awkward because I ate the bread and drank the wine even though I wasn’t sure I should. He continued to like me for years even though I never reciprocated. One he even came down to visit me in Cincinnati. It was then that I told him he didn’t have a chance. I really didn’t know how to tell him and I am afraid I didn’t do a very good job of it. It really had nothing to do with his arm but I think he thought it did.

That summer John and I continued to see each nearly every day. His parents were gone because they were running a motel in the Michigan Upper Peninsula on Lake Manistique so we spent a lot of time at his house. One weekend we drove up to their cabins and stayed. I slept upstairs in the same bed with his sister, Judy, which was a little awkward. I remember having mountains of fried chicken for dinner. Kathy was a good cook and she cooked a lot. Everyone could have as much chicken as they wanted and there were even leftovers. That was a new concept for me as Mom never made extra food—it was always one piece each. I am glad Mom cooked that way as I could eat almost anything I wanted my whole life and not gain weight. I am surprised none of the Glase kids were heavy, but I guess it was because everyone was so athletic.

We had a great time that weekend up at the Lake. It was the first time I ever attempted water skiing and I was a natural. It was probably because of my strong legs and my ballet training. John and I even sneaked out for a rendezvous in the bushes once. I had to make sure I didn’t have any tell-tale leaves stuck to my clothes. Ah, to be young and in love! But soon the summer was over and it was time to go back to school and tackle junior year.