November 11, 1972 (Letter from Kenny)

I know it's been a really long time since you wrote to me but honestly I haven't had any time to write.  As a matter of fact I don't have time now but I'm writing while eating breakfast.  I keep asking Lauren to get me your phone number (ti's easier for me to call) but she can't find it.  Please send me your #.  Oh yeah, just because I couldn't write, doesn't mean you had to stop writing (it was one of the few letters I've gotten).

 Well let's see.  School sucks.  I realize I overreact but this is really ridiculous.  The amount of work is unbelievable and what's worse is that I honest am not understanding much.  I get up at 9:00, get dressed, study for 1/2 hour, go to 2 classes, eat lunch, study for 1/2 hour, go to 3rd class.  Study from 2:00 to 5:00.  Eat Sinner.  Study from 6:30 to 11:00.  That's it everyday and weekends are even worse.  It has completely destroyed my life.  I've never been so miserable as I am now.  Whatever small amount of confidence I ever had has been completely taken from me.  We got our picture books of all the kids in the first yr class and there are some people with doctorates, no shit.  Some of these dudes graduated college in 1964.  (I hadn't even graduated jr high then.)

In case you haven't heard I'm engaged.  That's another thing that's been bothering me.  I honestly don't know if I'm ready to get married but next year I don't want to be as miserable as I am this year.  I don't know how it happened but somehow it did.  We had decided to wait til the following summer then all of a sudden I found myself saying, "no, let's get married this summer" which is what I had never wanted before.  The wedding (ye gods) will be this summer (probably mid-August).  I really want you to come but if you're going to be in sunny Calif. I'll understand.

I see Herb very rarelyt, usually whenever we're home for a weekend.  He's having a good time, finally getting laid and growing a mustache (a real one).  How's Chris?  I hear he's in Buffalo.  I'm sure he's been hanging around with you or trying to.  I hope to get there sometime in March but you'll probably be gone by then won't you?  Have you heard from Tony at all?  I wonder how the little Polish kid is doing?  How's your car?  How's your life?  Are you brushing your teeth regularly?  The answers to these and other questions will be greatly appreciated in one of Nelson's 70 page documentaries (otherwise known as letters.)

Take care big kid, I've got to go to the library.  I'm sorry again for not writing, don't forget to give me your phone number and when you're in.

October 23, 1969 (Letter from Renee)

I was certainly glad to year from you, cause I wasn't too sure of your address either, and to tell the truth, it's getting kind of difficult to find time to write.  I am, however, living at the same apartment.

I know what you mean Paul, when you say that the old group is breaking up, and to tell the truth, I am past the point of really caring about people like Mike and Mardi and Joan and Barb, because my life is so different than theirs, and as far as I'm concerned they are very shallow people who have nothing to really offer me in the way of friendship any longer.   However, I do intend to keep our relationship going, even if we both are kind of lax in letter writing.  I, too, am quite friendly with Mark, and you, because you both have something substantial to offer me as close friends.  When I think back of past experiences, you and Mark were the only two real friends I had in my high school days, and the rest were acquaintances who thrived on using me for one reason or another.  I don't know Paul, maybe we both have grown up a lot, and I think we have, cause you seem to be expressing the same sort of callousness about past friends as I do, and that stems from the general attitude "I could care less about them".

I was home for 2 weeks at the beginning of Sept., but I didn't see Mike or Mardi or anyone.  I talked to Frat Rat Mike on the phone and he tried to impress me that he was so superior to the "Warren crowd", and he told me that he was fed up with everyone and everything.  Typically Mike, huh?  Mike's in love with himself and always was; only I just recently discovered this fact -- unfortunately about 3 years too late.  I have no fond words for Mardi or Barb either.  Mardi is heading for real trouble and confusion, and it's about time she stopped fooling around and looking for kicks, and set herself straight about what life is really like in the cruel, cruel world!!  Enough of my psychoanalyzing for now -- it won't do anyone much good anyhow.

I was glad to hear that your summer experience was good, and that it brought you out of your coon's shell.  (????)  I really wish that you and I could get together for a long, long talk, cause you wouldn't believe how much my ideas have changed, and my attitudes toward things in general.  I'm a new person, Paul, and I think you'd like the "NEW" me better than the Renee you knew two years ago!!

Thank you for the congrats on my engagement.  I am most happy and very much in love, secure, and well-balanced too for a change.  Morrey is just wonderful to me, and we get along really great.  We're planning on getting married next fall so I hope you can make the wedding (if I don't end up pregnant before then, heaven forbid).  I've got 76 more hours till graduation, so I'll probably graduate next March if all goes well.

I also have a job this quarter, and for the rest of the year.  I work as a secretary in my landlord's office, which also happens to be a plumbing warehouse and business.  I love my job cause I don't do much besides sit on my can and go out for coffee once in a while, and keep all my boss' bachelor friends happy with my gross jokes, etc.  My boss is a bachelor and a real cool head, and I can hardly believe that I'm getting paid 1.50 to come in here and have a good time.  When he doesn't give me any work to do, I can write letters on his stationary to my friends, or read, or study, or type my own papers.  Cool, eh?

Well I gotta go cause my boss is talking to me.  Write soon.