The cold weather continues. In History, we talked with Mr. Gray about University and I told him that I have to get down to Watermouth on Friday the 22nd and how the rail strike is threatening my plans; he suggested the bus, which I hadn’t thought of, and suggested I hitch back from Watermouth to London, saying he used to do it regularly. My mind was alive at this and the thought excites me. Maybe I can stay over in London at a YMCA?
Otherwise, a sullenness in the air, and I’m sure Deborah thinks I hate her. There was unspoken aggravation as we mocked and teased one another.
My Kerouac biography was waiting when I got home. It looks just as good as I’d hoped. I'm fascinated at how it all links up, Elvin Jones and Kerouac hanging round together, etc. . . .