I've got a lot of journals -- probably nine boxes' worth, mainly stored in my parents' house in New Jersey. This summer, I'm beginning the process of destroying them.
They take up too much space, for one thing -- they're heavy and bulky and unwieldy, and I no longer want to have that much junk parked in my parents' home. I certainly don't want to pay for a storage unit for them, and I really don't like the idea of someone, particularly a relative or friend, reading them without my knowledge. They're just too awful and embarrassing, essentially a repository of heart vomit and brain spit.
And God, do they include a ton of weird tween sexual fantasies written in a style that eerily resembles that of L.M. Montgomery. I guess if you're an Anne of Green Gables fetishist, my cache of quais-steampunk slash fiction might git you bodied, so feel free to email me with monetary offers or whatever.
Here's an entry from September 19, 1994, when I was 13.
Beth called me a poser because I wore black knee socks. FUCK her. I'm gonna get saddle shoes and no one else will have them.
I'm waiting for an opportunity to call WPST and win tickets to a big Pearl Jam/Tom Petty/Neil Young/Lots of other cool stuff festival in California [Having worked in radio, I now know that contest winners need to be at least 18 years old, so this was a futile quest. Also, as if my mom and dad would've let me ship out to this proto-Coachella or whatever.] It seems like I've been soooo busy lately ] twirling, work on Thursdays and Saturdays [at a party store], Student Council and Peer Leadership is [sic] all keeping me busy. Plus, I want to join Drama and Yearbook. I'm so psyched! This years [sic] kicks butt! Oh, and CCD also.
Speaking of which, it started tonight and is awesome, since I'm carpooling with W! yess!! His mom is the coolest chick, and he's so cute and funny. I can tell that they have a really great relationship. Good luck to the chick who wants to marry him -- his mom will definitely need to be won over. [Why was I thinking like a 31-year-old spinster when I was 13?]
I have Peer Leadership at 7:45 tomorrow, but I'm gonna go to Bagelsmith at around 7:15, 7:20. It'll be cool. [They did have an excellent bagel with cream cheese and green olives. Also, I just realized I was talking about 7:15 in the morning. I was up and ready for bagels at that hour?]
L called me today, first to ask about math, but actually to try and get me to be his liason [sic] with A. Well, that might have been partially it, but he also wanted advice. He's so straightforward and cute and honest and...just himself, you know? Plain and simple. He's not too quick sometimes, but he's obviously intelligent. He's a cool friend [who I just essentially described as Lenny from Of Mice and Men, but evs.]
I WISH WPST would play "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?"!! It's the awesomest song! AIIIIIIIEEEE, it's so cool! [At the very moment I wrote this, Jane was probably off dancing with Michael Stipe and friends at some cool party that would've blown my tween mind].
Mr. G thinks that my poem "The Many Faces of Girl" is brilliant [what's up, nascent feminist poetry] and he's going to show it to his wife. He's a cool guy. I hope none of my teachers think I don't like them. They think that every year it's so annoying. [I have no idea why I gave off such a disdainful vibe, especially when school was my paradise and I generally adored my teachers as demigods and goddesses.]
Math is much better this year. As far as I know, my average is A+. Darn it, I don't wanna listen to this British crap. [Ooh, sick burn, Oasis]. I WANT R.E.M!!
I'm beginning to be excited about boys again. For awhile, I wasn't interested, but now I am. I want to get to know J better. He seems cool.
I also think that A's brother Y is absolutely gorgeous -- he's sooooo hot. I mean, aah! He is absolutely fantastic to look at. I wish I had a really, really popular, hot, athletic, smart brother his age who wouldn't overshadow me, of course. If they were friends, it would kick ass SO much! Then, he probably wouldn't be interested in me, though. And my life would be totally different. It might suck. My parents would be old. Nah, I don't wish that.
Now do you see why I want to get rid of all this old shit? It is a journey to the heart of lame. Anyway, do you have your old journals hanging around? I would so not object if you enabled my dorkery by sharing some choice quotes of your own in the comments.