The Jotter Pages….The blob takes over London


The Jotter Pages is a glimpse into one of my many notebooks.  The italics are the actual writings from my jotter and the roman type are my comments today.  This entry takes place in London, England 1984 while traveling with my friend Anne.

Monday, September 3, 1984

Got up late and went to Trafalgar Square & The National Gallery museum (which smelled terrible).  In the evening, we stopped off at a pub called The White Lion where me met two English businessmen.

We had a fun evening with Richard and Nick drinking pints and telling stories.  That is, until the lights in the pub went off and we were in complete darkness for about 20 seconds or so.  The lights popped back on and Anne immediately realized that her big blob of a handbag was gone.  We had been sitting at a small pub table to the right of the door and Anne’s bag was on the floor near her feet.

I must interject here to let you know that Anne was the type of girl who carried EVERYTHING in her bag. Why she would need to cart the stuff she did all the way to the UK is beyond me.  This “blob” as I called it, probably weighed 10 lbs and must have looked ripe for the picking by the would be thief.

Anne went crazy.  Crying and screaming, she made her way over to the front of the pub and proceeded to punch a hole right through the glass door.  She had me so scared with all of her kicking and screaming.  Showing no sign of calming down,  I slapped her across the face.  She was a girl possessed and making such a scene, I really had no choice.  After the pub, we went to the Bond Street Police station where they took a description of the contents.  Of course as usual, she had everything but the kitchen sink in the blob and Anne used more than enough paper filling out the forms and making notes on what was missing.  Passport, wallet, make up, camera, key chain with all her house keys and car key, maps, gum, glasses and probably 25 other items that were near and dear to Anne.  Meanwhile, she was still going insane the whole time we were at the station.  Shocking that Nick and Richard remained with us and didn’t try to ditch the two American lunatics back at the pub.  When we were done at the station, they helped us get back to our hotel.

The next day, we were alerted by the police that the blob handbag had been found!  All the bazillion items were recovered with the exception of the money.  She was incredibly lucky to get her travel documents back.  Anne and I traveled together for 10 days; visiting London and Paris and I had many adventures.






The Jotter Pages….


A dear friend recently commented that she would love to catch a glimpse inside one of my jotters.   I thought this was an interesting idea so I’ve decided to make it a feature here at Jotter Girl.

But how would I choose which book, which page?

Yesterday, I got all 28 books out,  spread them on the floor,  grabbed one and opened to a page.  Not the best plan because here is what you’d get….

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Escalante April 8, 1973

I hate Sundays because there’s nothing on TV except Zoom.  Once a day.

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I’d need a better plan in selecting something more interesting than what was on television back in the 70′s.  After spending a while flipping pages is several books, I came up with a jotter page to share.  The italics are the actual writings from my jotter.  The  *roman type* are my comments today.

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buy Misoprostol without prescription October 24, 1984 

Yesterday, Mom and I went to the Vatican Museum.  As with the rest of Rome, it was gripping and tugging at my heart strings.  Later in the day we met Marco at the Villa Borghese where we took photosIt was fun although these would most likely be our last photos together for a long while.

We are leaving Rome tomorrow and I will miss Marco very much.  Right now, I am listening to one of the two tapes he made for me.  I’m sad because these songs remind me of him.  It was very difficult to say goodbye.  With tears in my eyes, I watched him leave the Pensione Merano through my 3rd floor window.  *note: Marco did not leave through my 3rd floor window.  He took the elevator as he should.* As I looked down upon the Via Veneto, I could see that he too, was crying.  Marco looked up to my window and waved as I blew him a kiss.  I will especially miss him calling me Poppet and darling.

I am sitting on the bed beside my mother.  Our suitcases are in various stages of being packed.  We are taking a break and I am listening to my Walkman.   I was quiet  up until a few moments ago when the sobs burst out of my body and made mom jump a mile.  She ran to the bathroom and brought me back a towel.  What else could she do?  She’s been in Italy for about a week and has gotten to know Marco too.  I think she understands why I have fallen so hard.  I’ve been in Europe for 2 months and don’t want to go home.  I have such a headache and my eyes are stinging like crazy.  How will I manage with out him.

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The story behind this story is that I was someone who loved to be in love.  My mother, who was quite aware of my  ability to fall head over heels, hadn’t planned to come to Italy until she got the call from me telling her I felt like Cinderella and I had found my prince.  I am pretty sure she hung up the phone and booked the next flight to Rome in anticipation that I was going to elope with Marco and never come back to the United States.