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ELLIE: AN INVENTORY OF BEING
Note from Lea Wait:
When I was a junior at Chatham College in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, I wrote a poem which won first prize in a national competition for college students and was published in STORY: THE YEARBOOK OF DISCOVERY- 1968, edited by Whit and Hallie Burnett, and published by Four Winds Press in New York. Marianne Moore judged the poetry entries and wrote of me, "She is uninhibited, curious, retentive and takes trouble." Whit Burnett added, "What better might be said of a worker in the arts!" I was thrilled.
I was even more thrilled in 2005 when I discovered that my "Ellie" has been used in creative writing classes over the years -- with a note that no one knew who "Eleanor Wait" was, or what had happened to her. Ironically, the answer is in the poem. After college I changed my name to "Lea Wait." And I've been writing ever since, as you can see by the rest of this website. At the moment I'm writing in two genres: historical novels for children aged 7 and up, and traditional mysteries for adults.
I also speak about writing, and run workshops for writers of all ages. For more information, see my "contact" page.
With memories of the Ellie Wait who was once 20 years old, here is the poem.
Ellie: An Inventory of Being
I am Ellie.
I am twenty years old.
I am a student, but never a co-ed.
A girl, afraid to be a woman.
If I stand very tall I am 62 inches high.
I have blue eyes streaked with gray
And tarnished brown hair
That gets in them.
Sometimes I wear it in a bun and am Emily Dickinson or Louisa Alcott
Or in pigtails, and play hopscotch in front of Mellon Institute.
Or just let it hang,
And run down Chapel Hill anyway.
I am a student, and a lady, and a child;
Almost a woman, but always a girl.
I love rare steak and burnt potato chips.
I am older than Neenie,
Younger than Lea;
I love the smell of Arpege and mud flats.
I drink tea with lemon and sugar with coffee.
Daffodils laugh, but blue-bells depress me.
I'm afraid of trolls.
I like raisins in oatmeal and in the sun.
I work best under pressure.
I like shiny fingernails and jazz, but
I hate Altman's and mini-skirts.
I like small rooms lined with books, and braided rugs, and
Pillows, because I like to sit on the floor.
I like fountain pens and brown notebooks and blue ink and
I don't believe in god, but I don't tell anyone anymore,
And my children will go to church,
Because I love Christmas.
I love pearls.
I like garnets better than rubies,
And topaz more than diamonds.
But someday I want a diamond
And a gold band
Forever.
But not just now.
Someday I want a girl named Jeannie and a boy named Mike --
But they'll have to wait.
Because I want to be a person first.
Subject to change.
I believe that women are more than equal, but keep quiet about it.
I know there are 435 members of the House of Representatives
But I don't understand why more of them aren't Negroes and women.
Rachel Carson and Margaret Chase Smith were my high school ideals.
Now I'd add (quietly) Jean Kerr.
I'm an anti-feminist.
I love to travel alone.
I'm crazy about noodles and tuna fish and pizza with pepperoni and Jello.
I hate clutter, unless it's books.
I love cosy slippers and lacy underwear and going barefoot in the mud.
I make spaghetti in a popcorn popper, and always add paprika.
I am in love with chipmunks, pigeons, and 4x6 envelopes.
I read Dickens and Ferlinghetti.
I love wind and rain and snowmen
And Baroque music and Barbra Streisand, even if she's trite.
And I don't like earrings or hair spray or soap operas and
I adore comercials.
I love fireplaces with real fires, and front porches with creaky swings,
and noisy typewriters.
I like strawberry milkshakes and frosted lipsticks.
I'd like to be cultured, but I love WABC and
I daydream at the symphony.
I love to get dressed up, but I don't waste time doing it.
I hate alarm clocks and television sets. But I couldn't live without them.
I'd rather walk than ride. But I'll drive anywhere.
I'm honest to a proudly self-conscious fault, and I'm
Corrupt to a deeper meaning.
I wish sex were legal -- but I went through a phase of wishing human
sacrifice were, too.
I don't want to grow up, but I'm scared to stay young.
I eat too much, sometimes, and talk too much, often, and
Wish I could sleep too much, always.
If the world were a stage I'd feel more comfortable in it.
I'm a loner, but I love being lonely.
I'm a conformist, except when I think.
I have horrible nightmares, and wild daydreams.
And I couldn't live without either.
I spend too much money on velvet hair ribons and funny cards and
books of plays.
Hamlet and Antigone are my ideals, but
Creon and I are one.
I think too fast.
I hate greasepaint, but I love crowds.
I love Degas, but I don't think I like horses or ballet.
I've always wanted to be the first woman president, and a
marine biologist, and a literary lionness,
And an archaeologist,
But I'm allergic to dust.
I don't want anyone to understand me,
But people think they do, and
They're probably right.
If I were rich the first place I'd go would be Scotland.
The second would be Stratford.
And the third would be Disneyland.
I need someone to need me, because then I need them, too.
I'm a deadly realist, but I pretend to be idealistic.
I used to think there was no such thing as love.
Now I'm not so sure.
I never want to go to the moon, but I'd love to see penguins.
I've always felt that horses were incomplete zebras.
I'm funny.
But most of the time it's intentional.
I get migraine heartaches.
I either love or hate October and March; I haven't decided yet.
I like men who know that women are people, too.
And I hate crew cuts and red hair.
I'm a drama major because there are only five of us.
I support the minority, but
If I were Jewish, I'd be conservative.
If I were a Democrat, I'd be liberal.
I'm in favor of staying in Viet Nam,
But I hate war.
I may be in love, and it scares me.
But he doesn't.
I love to see the sun rise, but hate to get up in the morning.
I'm perennially frustrated because I can't know everything.
And I'm annually concerned about self.
My name is Ellie, and this is 1967.
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