Wednesday, September 15, 2010

A Writer In The Making...

I recently found my middle school and high school journals...and it pains me to tell you that I was not always as talented with the written word as I am today. (and by talented, I mean in an obscure, inappropriate way)   I was downright vapid...and boycrazy...and lacked proper transitions!  Wait...come to think of it...maybe not much has changed.  Hrmmm.  SQUIRREL! *head swings to the left* HOT GUY! *head swings to the right* Oh where was I? I like wine.

I decided to share some excerpts from my diary from the week of September 10-17 across various years...why? Because it is awesomely bad.  Its like the first few episodes of American Idol- you watch for the freaks because they are way more entertaining than Kelly Clarkson.  I now present you with my very own William Hung...

September 10, 1995
Dear Diary,
I'm going out with Matt.  I HEART him. I held hands with him and it was like I was dreaming. (ed. note: BARF!) I talk to him all the time and he isn't shy like my other boyfriends.  I called him and we talked and his 5 year old bro made fun of him for talking to his girlfriend.

"It was like I was dreaming"??? Really?  Did I read a shit ton of Judy Bloom before starting this diary or what?   This entry alone should be used as Exhibit A in my Loser Trial.

September 12, 1995
Dear Diary,
I went to the fair last night and Matt wasn't there. He had to get his clothes ready for hunting. (ed. note: DEAL FUCKING BREAKER!  why did this sentence not raise some major red flags??? WTF) I am going to babysit Mallory today. I have her all day long.  I had 'I HEART Matt' painted on my face. Emily's little brother is riding a go cart in the parade for my mom's campaign.

Did I mention that I wasn't so good at transitions?  A) REALLY? He couldn't meet me at a fair because of his fucking clothes? B) Who is Mallory? C) Any girl who has "I HEART (INSERT NAME HERE)" on her face should get smacked.  Guess what 12 year old me? YOU WEREN'T IN LOVE! YOU WERE PREMENSTRUAL!

September 14, 1996
Tupac died yesterday. Nick wants to beat up Josh. (ed. note: Josh = boyfriend, and my transitions are still awesome I see!)  Nick is so strong.  I am really scared.  I want to go and see the fight but I don't want Josh to get hurt.  I have to be there for josh but I know I'm gonna cry.  I love Josh but I know he's gonna get beat.  Josh is strong but Nick is stronger.
P.S. Casey Mo is having a party 2night!!

Good to see that my grammar went downhill from age 12 to 13. 
Commas? Fuck em.  
"Going to?" Nah, "Gonna." 
Awesome sign off? Well. BYE!  
This is some deep shit!

September 16, 1997
Last night I had a dream that rats were attacking me.  It was the worst dream I have ever had.  Tom make me feel so lonely. (ed. note: Tom=senior foreign exchange student when I was a freshman. Unrequited love.)  I need him.  I miss him.  It has been nearly a whole week since I have called.  I didn't make Homecoming and I didn't get Tom.  I still feel the need to constantly believe Tom will be mine.  But I have too much doubt. It must be easy to be Tom and never have to worry about being alone.

I would like to state for the record that although Tom played hard to get while I liked him, in a typical fashion, when I stopped being interested, that fucker stalked me.  We went to a dance together and then he asked me to prom...and I just wasn't into him so I said "No" to prom.  I told him that my parents wouldn't let me go to prom as a Freshman.  Served him right for not returning me calls!  I guess it doesn't matter how old they are- Men are only attracted to the chase.  When you chase them, you get nothing.  As soon as you get over someone, they are at your doorstep begging for a chance. SIGH.

The sad part is that I was inspired by Ann Frank.  Ann Fucking-Hide-in-an-Attic-to-Avoid-the-Nazis Frank.  Like anything that I was writing about would ever educate and entertain generations of people about life in the 90s.  I might as well have been making a time capsule out of Ace of Base cassettes and flannel.  But, since I was about as deep as a puddle, I had no clue that my life wasn't super interesting.

I wonder if I should be drawing any parallels right now....

p.s. Bitchy Little Rat Dog is having a party 2night and Tupac has been dead for 14 years.


  1. Haha this sounds oddly like my old journal entries. No worries though, I think your blog posts are much better ;)


  2. Seriously the years might not have been the same but your way from changing bf without transitions echoes in my head.

    Keep em coming :)

  3. I kept a journal/diary when I was 14 for a few months. I can barely look back and read it without thinking I was such an idiot. :P

  4. I feel the same when I look at my old diary-it likes what was I thinking!

  5. Ha! Well, I do believe we are about the same age bitch! I was in SIXTH grade when Tu-Pac died... It was just tragic to us 'thug bitch wanna-be's'

    I WOULD NOT under any circumstances put my middle school bullshit out there... and NOW I don't have to because mine was damn near EXACTLY like yours.

    Want to know what inspired me? Well fucking OF COURSE YOU DO!!!! Go Ask Alice. Fucking serious.

  6. @CB- OMG! Me too...I actually mention Go Ask Alice in one of my journal entries later on!

  7. OMG!! I did a post awhile back on my journal from middle school. When I first found the journal and read through it, I never laughed so hard in my life. Normally, I don't link to my blog in comments, but I feel it is appropriate in this case:

  8. This post was so GD funny, I had to venture outta (out of? NO WAY!) Google Reader to comment! L-O-V-E-I-T!

  9. @D, Bee, MissEmy, & Queen: I highly encourage you to post your awesomeness from age 14! It is a great reminder of how far we have come...or not, in my case! hehe

    @CB- you are younger than me, bitch. FUCK! ;)

    @Lilly- literally laughed out loud at your sweat confession. "i need to confess something...I sweat a lot!" bahahaha!

    @Estera Star- WELCOME! Thanks for commenting...i feel loved!

  10. too funny, glad I stumbled across this post, I love going through old diary entries and making fun of myself... only to realize 15 years later the only thing that has improved is my grammar and unwillingness to pretend I like something I hate to get a guy to think I'm interesting. I still don't know what to do with all those X-Men cards...

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